Purgatory
by GeorgeAndrews
Summary: It is said that every human soul is perfectly matched by another single soul. That if the two meet then no ordinary earthly passion can compare with the love that each feels for the other. What happens when two souls are ripped apart, lost amidst the darkness of life. Will they ever be able to find their way back to one another? Or will time, space and fate separate them forever?
1. Chapter 1

A/N -A love story with a little drama.

Rated for swearing - f-word and s-word.

* * *

**Chapter One**

It was winter. Of that much Flack was well aware as he plodded his way down Center Boulevard in Queens. It was a quiet night, a rarity in New York but then that was why he had come over to Queens, his birthplace, his home. His little part of New York City that would always and forever be his. Because this was where he'd been born and this was no doubt where he would...

Flack frowned, how damn cynical he was being that evening.

He crossed the road and stared up at the unnecessarily large buildings across the river. He liked it when he could see the city from a distance. Not too far though, he would never stray too far from his home. It was such a small place in the grand scheme of things, considering all the land that made up the Earth, and yet millions of humans had all crammed themselves into tiny, overpriced apartments and for what? For a view of other tiny, overpriced apartments. Flack snorted derisively as he thought of himself. He was just the same, one of them and yet he loved it.

Flack walked down a few stone steps and made his way towards a low stone wall. His gloved hand brushed the snow from it and then he sat down on the cleared spot.

"Argh!" he yelped as his ass got a freezing from the icy coldness of the wall.

"Darn it," he muttered and then gave up. He could already feel his jeans becoming wet from the melting snow. The trip back home would be an unpleasant one now.

Flack sighed and then looked back across at all the tiny golden lights that lit up the city. People in their homes, enjoying their evenings...or knowing his job...probably not. He smirked to himself wryly and then looked up as two teenagers appeared out of nowhere... from the black of the night. Flack's eyes narrowed. They were just kids, should be in bed at this time. He glanced down at his watch. Christ, it was only ten. Since when had he become such an old grouch? Flack chuckled to himself. His thirty-five years on the planet had sincerely wisened him up to life. He didn't profess to be the most knowledgeable man about town and by no means was he an intellectual. But he could damn well read people, and situations. Not once had anyone got the better of him for his inability to read the subtext of a person or situation.

Flack grinned, feeling rather pleased with himself. Yes, he was damn good at his job and he knew it. He was the go-to guy, the one the others all came to with their problems, the one Sam now came to if she had a problem. His smiled faded slightly as he thought of his sister. For so long he had been angry at her, it had almost split them apart for good. The damage irreparable for her being so...so...so unreliable and for him being so judgemental.

Flack shook his head at himself. Judgemental. He was God damn judgemental and he always had been. Of Sam, of Henry, of Danny and the rest of them. Of everyone, every single victim or suspect that crossed his desk. He had no right to be. Flack clenched his hands in his gloves. He had committed the worst sin there was, gone against everything he had been raised to believe in. Raised as a cop, to bring justice down upon those who deserved it, and raised as a Catholic, a man of God. Flack closed his eyes, his breathing a little louder, a little struggled as an image flashed across his mind. A man. A man down on the ground. An innocent no matter what he'd done. At that moment, in that very second of time, he was an innocent at Flack's mercy and he had judged. He had taken power into his own hands, he had performed justice that should be left only for God and the law to decide.

Flack's eyes blinked open against the bitter cold of the night. He'd stopped wearing his cross after that day. The others, Mac certainly, thought it was because he'd stopped believing in God. That the death of Jess had caused his belief to die along with her. But that was not true. Now more than ever he clung to the hope that God existed, that he guarded the Earth and the souls that lived within it, with a safe hand and just mind. But he was a hypocrite to wear a cross now. He had murdered a man, broken one of the Ten Commandments. And for that he knew he would burn in hell once his time was up, it was only what he deserved.

Flack gently placed his clothed hands together in submission to a higher power. His eyes fluttered closed again and his lips moved soundlessly through the cold air of the night. He murmured a silent prayer, a prayer of repentance and hoped that someone, something above him would hear and would forgive. He just sat, frozen in time like a statue and felt the flecks of cold hit his face. It had begun to snow again. His tongue darted out and tasted the fresh, crisp air. Licked icy lips, the heat burning through them like the sting of fire.

Flack's eyes opened and his gaze turned heavenward, towards the sky high above him. It was clouded; a mystical grey had fallen over Queens and shrouded the place he sat in a slight mist. He looked out across the river towards the city. Over there it was still clear, the cloud had not quite reached it yet. The moon and stars were still visible above it and Flack's breath hitched as he watched them, enchanted by their power. Space had always filled him with wonder... and trepidation. It was so vast, made him feel so inhumanly small and insignificant. And he was, he guessed. The world would still carry on without him if he died. Sam would mourn, so would the team, but they would all move on eventually. Just like they all had when they'd lost members before.

Mac was now happily married, Flack never thought he would see the day, but Christine seemed to have completed the empty life he had been existing in since losing Claire. Jo had her two children, both of whom she loved more than life itself. Danny and Lindsay would always have each other and little Lucy, and their newborn who was to arrive any day now. Adam was with Michelle, punching way above his weight in Flack's opinion, the lucky bastard. And Hawkes had proposed to Camille last month... about time too really. Sid...now Sid was a puzzle. He had his two beautiful girls, almost grown up and adults themselves now. But he was often distant nowadays and Flack couldn't work out why. Jo would probably know, she and Sid were always close.

Flack sighed as he thought of his team and how happy they all seemed to be to his knowledge. He had thought that a relationship would make him happy, would make him feel as complete as all the others seemed to be. Jamie was everything he thought he'd ever wanted in life. She was kind, beautiful, savvy and tough. But there was one essential detail that she lacked, that she always would and he wasn't being fair to her, or to himself, if he ever really thought they could work out. She was Jamie Lovato, that was her name, no-one else and nothing she could do could change that. And nothing he could do could change the past and its events. Life had moved on, the way it always did, and he had moved on with it. A broken man in a broken city.

Flack gulped and looked around, falling out of his stupor. The cloud had now swept across the river and over the city too. It was coming down in thick billows and swirling into a fog that clouded over everything. Flack shivered and felt uneasy. The view in front of him was slowly becoming shrouded by the mist and disappearing into the grey. He turned his head and looked behind him but nothing was there. Just the grey swirls of fog and an icy wind that blew around him, freezing him to the stone wall he sat on. He knew he should really get up and go home. The snow was falling more heavily now and he had work in the morning. Yet...his legs didn't seem to want to work. He was perfectly happy sitting where he was, looking at not much at all anymore. But he enjoyed just taking a moment to mull things over, to contemplate life. He wasn't nearly as shallow as some of the others thought he was. Mind you, Jess' death had changed that in him. A lot of him had changed that day. Flack's eyes closed again as an imaged flashed before him of a man on the ground.

"No..." he murmured and felt the sting of a trail down his ice cold cheek.

No-one would ever understand. No-one would ever know. Not Jamie, not Danny and certainly not Mac. Although Flack knew he had his suspicions about what had happened in that basement. He was best off alone. The one woman in the whole world he loved now gone. The one person who would have understood why he'd done it... dead many years now. And life had moved on. It was another time. Flack swallowed and then opened his eyes once more. There was nothing. He was in the midst of nothingness. Just a grey and black nothing surrounding him and he wondered if he was still awake, or dreaming. Perhaps he had died, frozen in place from the cold as he thought of a lost love. A lost chance. Those three words he had failed to say to her when she'd still been alive. He could still remember every inch of her face, every detail, every freckle and mark.

A trail burnt down his other cheek as he thought of her face. Those shining dark eyes, long dark tresses that swept down her back. The perfection of beauty. Flack felt his heart screaming out in his chest and he had to hold a hand to it. He felt it bleed for his loss, the one he had never recovered from, as tears fell down his face. No...no, he was still alive. The pain he felt was all too real. Though perhaps this was his hell, his punishment for becoming a murderer. He was to always feel the guilt, the loss, the loneliness of his life forever more. He was to exist as a solitary soul on the horizon of life for the rest of time.

Flack coughed as it got too much for him and gasped in the frozen air. It hit his lungs with a vengeance and pain shot through his body making him cough even more. He needed to get out of there. He needed to move and get back home. Sitting and dwelling on his past was no good. He'd prayed for forgiveness too many times already. All he could do was to hope that maybe one day he would receive that forgiveness he so desperately seeked, and that some ounce of happiness would go with it. That maybe one day... one day he would be at peace.

Ever so slowly Flack moved his arms and started to push himself up. His limbs screamed out in protestation at the movement but Flack fought with them and won. He stood, on shaky legs and turned to try and find his way home. The fog was thicker than ever, not even the streetlights punctuated through it as a helpful guide. Flack frowned grouchily. He needed to get back. Tomorrow was just another day; another death would be waiting for him no doubt. Mac would be there with his ever so serious face, the man hadn't even broken out into a single smile at his own wedding. Danny would be there bouncing jovially on his toes, excited about the birth of his son. Hawkes would then bore them to death with some minute detail of science that really wasn't important. Sometimes Flack even wished he could swap places with the corpse when Hawkes started off on one. Jo would make some 'Dear Lord' or 'God darn it' Southern comment that would make him smirk.

Flack chuckled. Maybe life wasn't so bad. He loved these people. Each and every single one of them. Even creepy Sid who he never really saw that much but still considered to be a good friend. And little Adam, on his way to becoming a CSI and getting serious with his girl. Flack remembered the first time he had met the lab rat; they had become fast friends quickly and had often hung out playing xbox or playstation at each other's apartments. He had helped teach Adam how to pick up girls and be more confident around them and in return Adam had secretly helped him to understand the terminology often used by their friends at the lab. It was their little secret. Yes, Adam had always been one of his best friends, long before even Danny, Hawkes and Lindsay had decided they'd liked him. They'd simply found him strange and irritating to start with. Perhaps that was why he and Adam had got on so well so fast. They'd not spent so much time together at work. But now Adam had surpassed him, doing well both personally and professionally.

Flack sighed as he slowly trudged into the nothing, his feet becoming heavy and ladened with snow. He turned as he thought he heard a noise somewhere around him in the swirling mist. He was lost. He hadn't walked further than a few feet but had no idea where to go next. He hoped he didn't walk right on into the river. He turned and swiftly banged into something hard and most likely a wall or tree.

"Ow!" he cursed loudly as he stumbled back and fell into the snow.

He could feel warm liquid falling from his nose and knew it was blood. Flack lay there in the snow and gently picked up a handful of it to place on his nose. He grinned as he thought of the irony that he happened to be surrounded by such a useful thing when he hurt himself, despite being irritated by the snow to begin with. His knees felt sore and Flack guessed they might be cut up too. He groaned as he wondered how he would get home. The snow felt so comfortable and light. He could feel it falling down on top of him and covering him. If he could just stay there... Suddenly he heard something to his right. Feet, feet trudging out of the mist. Two sets. It was those two kids again.

"I told you he was still 'ere..." one of them muttered as he bent down.

"Get his wallet, quick..." the other hissed as he shifted nervously.

Flack groaned and tried to roll away as one kid bent over him and started patting him down for a wallet.

"Get off me, kid. I'm a cop," Flack growled as he moved sluggishly away and uncovered the badge he still wore on his jeans.

"Shit, a cop," the kid started as he jumped back.

"Fucking pig," the other kid muttered. "They did my ol' man in, ya know? Set 'im up good an' proper."

"Pig," the other kid repeated as he spat on Flack.

"Hey!" Flack grunted as he sat himself up.

Everything in his body screamed at him to stop moving. His legs and arms moved in agony and his muscles fought with him. His knees were still aching, as was his face. Flack realised that being sat unmoving in the icy air and snow for so long had stiffened him up and he was moving too slowly to protect himself.

"Bastard," the other kid shouted as he raised a foot and kicked Flack hard in the face.

"Argh!" Flack cried as he fell back into the snow and lay there, nose definitely broken.

He could hear scuffling around him, perhaps a struggle but no-one else tried to hit him again and he was grateful for whatever had distracted the kids. Perhaps some rescuer had chanced upon them and was chasing them away. He didn't really care. He felt cold, too cold. How he wished for even a cup of precinct-sludge coffee right at that moment to warm him up. All of a sudden something appeared over him in the mist. A person. His saviour.

"You alright there, buddy?" said a calm voice.

A face loomed out of the darkness above him and stared down through the nothing at him.

Flack blinked his eyes in shock and then tried to scuffle back in the snow as his heart hammered violently inside him.

"You?!" he cried in disbelief.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Yes, me," the figure replied and then lurched forward towards him and Flack found himself being hauled up from the thick blanket of snow he'd been lying on.

The air rushed into his lungs as he tried to gasp in a breath to steady his spinning head but all he could do was cough and choke as the ice hit his lungs. He could feel the icicles growing inside him, steadily getting longer, their sharp points slicing into the opposing walls of his soft, fleshy innards as he cried out in pain. The icy air slowly killing him.

"We need to get you inside, come on."

Flack knew he was slowly being dragged away into the deep dark swirls of the misty night. He didn't know where he was going. He couldn't remember who he had seen. It had all been a lie. A face had come to him through the blanket of darkness and mist, but it was an untruth. He tried to fight this stranger, they could be taking him anywhere but he felt weak, he felt dead. His body was so cold and numb, inside and out. His head was spinning from the kick he'd received, blood still trickling from his nose and he was sure that his vision would be blurred... if there had been anything to see surrounding him. But there he was, slowly being dragged away into the depths of the night, into this nothingness. Maybe this was indeed where he would meet his fate?

But no, as he looked up he could see faint lights coming closer. A train perhaps, zooming towards him at breakneck speed. He wobbled at that thought. They needed to get out of the way. The light was in his eyes, it was getting closer, they would be hit any minute now. Flack stumbled to the side and strong arms caught him.

"Steady there."

Flack wavered as he was once more hauled up and pushed on towards the glow. He frowned as he made out a sign. Blinking a few times before it came into focus. 'Riverview Cafe and Sports Bar.' Flack grinned stupidly and snorted with laughter, blood dribbling down over his mouth and chin and falling onto his coat. There was certainly no river view that evening. He vaguely heard a bell tinkle overhead as the figure pushed open the door and then he found himself confronted with a roaring heat in his face. The delicate skin of his face flapped with the power of the hot air and he squinted his eyes, feeling light-headed and dizzy.

"Whoa there, this way."

He was pushed passed the door heater and into the cafe, along a sticky chequered floor of red and white and into a booth. The plastic of the seat covering squeaked as he sat down on it and he saw it shine slightly from the water of his clothes as he slid along. He could hear yelling around him and then a cup was set heavily on the table before him and blackness was poured into it. The blackness from outside, somehow it had bled its way into this toasty hot environment with its lurid colours and bright lights and strange murals on the walls. Flack blinked against the bright lights and began to take in the room in more detail. It was definitely a cafe; the waitresses in their matching red outfits and white aprons. Few people were in there and he guessed not many would come out on a night like this, especially not for a view of a river that was blanked out by a thick, black mist. Flack glanced outside and shivered again.

"You should drink that."

Flack stared into the porcelain cup before him. Of course. It wasn't blackness. It was coffee. Just normal, everyday coffee much like the sludge they served up at the precinct. He sighed and suddenly felt warmth spread through him as the tips of his fingers touched the hot cup. He took it in his trembling hands, relief washing through him, panic over. He was safe, he had his wallet, his nose might be broken but that was nothing new. He sipped the liquid and it quickly burnt a trail into his body, like a line of gunpowder leading up to the explosion at the end. His stomach burst into flames as the coffee reached it and he grimaced in pain. It was too hot, too soon after the ice from outside. He grimaced again and placed the cup back down as he gingerly held onto his stomach.

"That good huh?" said a voice of amusement.

Flack frowned and slowly raised his eyes to meet the deep brown ones before him. He froze. He froze far more solid than he had before outside. His breathing stopped. His heart slowed to a still. He died. Or at least, he thought he did. Then oxygen came to him again and slapped him round the face as it forced its way inside his body. Flack choked and a thick drop of blood from his nose splattered onto the table top.

"Here," his companion offered, pulling out a few napkins from the container and holding them out to him.

"This can't be real," Flack murmured as he took them and held them over his nose, tilting his head back and away from those haunting brown eyes.

Perhaps this really was purgatory. His place of temporary punishment where he existed alone and would be haunted by a past that would destroy him. His soul needed to be cleansed before heaven and maybe this was God's way of granting him forgiveness. Had he really gone and died out there on the wall? Frozen to death by the icy wind and fog. Or perhaps he had been kicked to death by those two kids that had mugged him. They had kicked the shit out of him and as he'd lain in the snow his soul had left his body, seeking out the afterlife and eternal salvation.

"Am I dead?" he asked as he kept his head tilted back and didn't look at her.

He heard a faint snort of laughter.

"Always so dramatic with you. No, you're not dead," she replied.

"But you... you're dead?" he asked to confirm it in his own mind, eyes lowering to stare into the wall of mysticism that was her face.

"Flack, I thought you were a detective? Use your eyes, I'm obviously not dead," she smirked at him.

Flack lowered his head and dropped his tissue holding hand down to his side. He felt no more blood run from his nose. It was slowly drying up in the heat of this horrid little cafe but he must have looked a mess. He could feel the dry blood caked onto his face, sticky over his chin and lip, mingling with the taste of coffee and burnt tongue in his mouth. But she... she looked exactly the same as he remembered. And he did still remember. Everything about her, every inch of her face, every detail, every freckle and mark. Those shining dark eyes, long dark tresses that swept down her back. The perfection of beauty.

"How is this possible?" he asked, slowly finding his voice.

A sadness crossed her eyes and she looked away for a moment, at what, he wasn't sure. But he watched her closely now, no longer afraid that this was a dream or that he was dead. No. This was real. He was alive...and so was she. Alive and sitting in front of him. The one woman in the whole world he loved still here; amazingly, bewilderingly, improbably but truly. Truly sitting right before him.

"It's a long story," she sighed as she looked back at him, perhaps a guilt behind her eyes.

Flack nodded as he shivered and then removed his coat. It was soaking wet and he figured he might have a better chance of warming up if he wasn't wearing it. His arms screamed at him as he bent them awkwardly to shrug out of it and then he hung it over the end of the table to dry.

"Hey, sweetie, I can hang that over the oven if you want it dry," a nasal voiced waitress said as she stomped over, gum chewing loudly in her mouth.

"Sure, thanks," Flack muttered and kind of wished he could give her his jeans too.

He turned back to the woman in front of him and felt his heart stutter again. This wasn't supposed to happen. When people died they stayed dead, they didn't come back to life. He'd been living alone for so long now, lost in the dark shadows of solitude that had taken him after her death. He'd never recovered from it, he wouldn't admit that to anyone but he never had. A little piece of him had died that day and it had been only Messer who might have had any vague idea of his loss. But she'd been dead many years now and life had moved on. He'd never even told her those three words, how he'd felt so much for her, how his heart had bled for his loss after her passing. But he'd had no choice but to accept and learn to live in the knowledge of his lost chance, a hollow ghost of a soul that had never fully recovered.

"You look good," she murmured and Flack felt her eyes gaze over his body, studying him in detail.

"So do you," Flack replied awkwardly, not quite meeting her eye. She was naturally just as beautiful as ever.

"You've aged though," she continued. "Trying out the silver fox look, eh?"

The joke fell flat on its face and died a cruel death at the hands of Flack's humour.

"Guess you lost that witty humour of yours though," she sighed.

Flack pursed his lips and suddenly felt annoyed. The feeling was coming back to his body, the ice slowly melting away from him, and from his heart. And it was replaced with emotions, with rage, with pent up anger and hurt that he'd long since hidden away in the very deepest recesses of his soul. What the fuck was he supposed to be like? All banter and jokes like it had been before? She'd died. She'd died and he'd been left alone to deal with it. And he'd sure as hell tried to as best he could. And now here she was, right bang in front of him like a cruel, sharp slap to the face. He felt pissed, angry but above all scared.

"Sorry," he muttered. Glancing around to check they were being ignored. "But what the hell am I supposed to be like?" he asked honestly, gazing up into her eyes.

She stared for a moment and then shook her head.

"Sorry, no, it's my fault. I... no. Sorry."

Flack felt bad now. He'd clearly upset her. He didn't want to fight. He didn't know what he wanted exactly, answers, the truth? But he didn't want to fight.

"Tell me what happened?" he asked, a slight tone of pleading to his voice.

She looked up and for a millisecond he tried to work out if she'd been crying.

"The FBI. They recruited me. I had to go away... an undercover mission," she replied and Flack could clearly hear regret in her voice.

"But you died?" he spluttered. "Why did you die? I don't understand?"

"They had to make it real. I was a cop, Flack. All my friends were cops. You and I both know that if I had just disappeared none of you would have stopped until you'd found out the truth...especially you," she replied and gently placed her hands on the table either side of her cup.

"You could have just told me," Flack murmured as he copied her actions.

"They wouldn't let me. I wasn't allowed to tell anyone. It was top secret," she explained.

Flack nodded and then looked away and out of the window at the blanket of black that was smothering the small cafe and sucking the life from it. He jumped as he felt something warm on his skin. Her hand. She had taken up his hand in her own. He closed his eyes and leant back on the plastic seat, her name touching his lips.

"Aiden," he murmured softly.

"I'm so sorry, Flack," she replied as she stroked her thumb pad over the rough skin and calluses of his gun user hands.

"We found your body," Flack whispered, his eyes still closed as he lost himself in the memories he spoke of. "Hawkes reconstructed your face, Mac recognised the secret message you left in the evidence. I went to your funeral, we all did."

"It wasn't me," Aiden replied guiltily.

"Pratt killed you, you'd stalked him for months, we found the evidence in your apartment," Flack said as the images flooded back into his mind.

"They were planted Flack. I'd been working with the FBI since Mac fired me, they needed a good story to make me nonexistent, so I could be reborn as another identity ready to go undercover. I never stalked Pratt, we set him up. I knew it was the best way for you all to forget about me," she said sorrowfully.

"Forget?" Flack said curtly as his eyes sprung open and he pulled his hand from her grasp. "I never forgot about you, Aiden!"

She looked taken aback at his brutal honesty and Flack wondered if she'd ever known how much he'd been in love with her.

"Pratt never confessed," he finally sighed as the pieces started to click into place. "He always remained in denial that he'd killed you."

"Because he didn't," Aiden replied. "But he did rape all those other women. We were killing two birds with one stone by framing him for my death."

"So if you come back, he'll be set free?" Flack asked sadly.

Aiden smiled in sorrow at Flack's hopeful eyes. "Pratt was killed in jail four years ago... but I can't come back, Flack, my work isn't finished. You're not even supposed to know I still exist. I was meeting an informant when I came across those two kids mugging you. I didn't even realise it was you until you recognised me."

"So this, our meeting here, this little chat...it's all pointless?" Flack said in slight anger.

"I'm sorry," she apologised again.

Flack pursed his lips again and looked away from her and this time into the diner. He was suddenly aware that the jukebox was playing The Beach Boys, Surfin' USA; a highly inappropriate song for the weather and time of year. He could just see his coat hanging over the stove on which some charcoaled looking burgers sat. His coat would no doubt be stinking of burgers now, though at least it would be dry and warm when he left this place. When he left his purgatory. For that's what it was. He might not have died, Aiden might not have died but he was still in his own purgatory. Not life, not death, not heaven and not hell. He was inbetween. Somewhere in the middle of it all. Not living in the way he should have been, in the way Danny was or Hawkes or Adam. But he wasn't dead, he still existed on the Earth and moved with the tide of human beings that lived around him.

He looked back at Aiden and noticed she was staring at him, a faraway look in her eye. He suddenly had an incredible urge just to fuck the rest of the world and grab hold of her and kiss her until she couldn't breathe, until he couldn't breathe. Until they were both lost in the depths of each other, in their own tastes and smells and everything that would have been them as a single soul.

"I missed you," he heard her murmur.

"Yeah," he said as a reply, not really knowing how exactly he wanted to respond to that statement. That he'd missed her like hell too? That his life had been empty without her? That he'd tried to find happiness twice since, always ending up with someone who was almost identical to her in looks and personality? But it was never her and he had lost one of them too. He couldn't do that again.

"I heard you nearly died? Not long after I did, I guess," she asked quietly.

"Yeah, had my stomach practically blown out. Took months of recovery," he said bluntly, how often he had wished he'd died that day.

He noticed her choke and the look of fear that passed over her face. It had affected her...those words. She cared, that much was clear, but how much? Flack narrowed his eyes. He had always been good at reading people, and this time would be no different.

"I wanted to see you, they wouldn't let me," she was saying.

"Mac saved my life with a shoelace. Had my guts spilling out of me. If I'd been in there with anyone else, I would have died," he said, watching her carefully.

It was there again, that look of fear, and he didn't know whether to be cheered by it or deeply saddened.

"Guess I missed out on a lot, huh?" she murmured. "You find yourself a girl?"

And there it was, that question. Flack smiled slightly. What should he tell her, the truth? She could probably find out for herself if she really wanted. She might already know and be asking out of politeness. Maybe he should lie and say he was married with a pretty little wife and 2.4 children. Or perhaps he should just say how he never moved on, that he sunk into a deep depression after she died and lay on the blame, make her feel as shit as he had all these years.

"I did," he said simply. Mind taking control over his heart.

"Did?" she asked, noticing the past tense.

"She died."

There was nothing more to say than that. It was the truth whether it made her feel guilty or not. He looked up to see her staring sorrowfully at him, eyes saddened by this truth.

"I'm sorry, Don."

"Not your fault," he said gruffly.

"You never moved on, found anyone else? I figured you'd be married with kids by now," she smiled.

It was a cheap attempt at cheerfulness. He thought about it for a moment, thought about whether he ever really had found anyone else after Jess.

"No, there's no-one else. You?"

His heart thumped heavily in his chest, air once more becoming difficult to find.

"No," she said sadly.

Flack nodded and then picked out the spoon from his coffee cup. It was stained brown with age and he could barely make out his largely proportioned head reflecting back at him in the tiny convex mirror.

"There was only ever one boy for me..."

Flack's head jolted up from the spoon as she continued to talk.

"But it was never meant to be."

He stared at her for a moment, unable to comprehend what she was saying. He felt like he was falling, like he was drowning in a confusion of words and snow and blackness and mist and Aiden. Nothing about this evening was normal.

"I should be going," she said after a while but made no effort to move.

"Think I've just about dried out now," Flack replied, feeling the rough material of his jeans under his legs to check.

"You should take more care, you could have died out there in that cold," she replied in concern.

"I can take care of myself, Aiden" he replied sharply. "Have done for a very long time."

"Good" she replied as she stood. "Don't forget to get your nose checked. Maybe Hawkes..." she sighed and looked away.

"I won't," Flack replied curtly.

"I guess I don't need to tell you that you never saw me here tonight? That you can't tell anyone else, not Mac or Danny or Stella?"

"Stella moved to New Orleans four years ago," Flack snorted bitterly. "Guess you would have known that if you were alive."

"Fine," she snapped, probably more abruptly than she intended and then turned and walked down the sticky walkway between the counter and booths and out of the door.

Flack watched her go, too lazy to move. Too pissed to make an effort. He would never see her again.

"Shit," he sighed and then got up. "Coat, please," he ordered from the waitress and then tossed her a few notes in gratitude.

He ran from the cafe, pulling on his coat as he did so. The mist was slowly evaporating from the world, leaving a brand new glow on everything as he got out onto the street. An icy wind blew through his hair and he shivered and pulled at his coat. The street was deserted, not a soul walked along it. And Flack wondered if he was dreaming... or if the only soul he had truly ever loved was really still alive...


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Grey. That is what the next day had brought to the city. All over it was grey. The dark grey fog of the night had cleared and yet still there was a dour and grey feel to the entire place. The sky was pale and grey, so bright it stung the eyes to look up at it and it seemed very much like it might snow again. The buildings were grey, looming ominously over the tight network of alleys and streets that made up the city. Flack felt like they were suffocating him, closing in and sealing his fate of wandering these grey streets alone for eternity. The sidewalks and roads were grey and smeared with dirty white snow. All around people walked to work in their grey suits and grey overcoats. The mood of the city had turned grey; people were depressed with the after Christmas blues and sick of the never ending cold weather. Flack sighed as he stared at the grey all around him, wondering if he'd suddenly lost the ability to see colour anymore.

Across the way Mac's face was serious and grim. In fact it was really rather grey and he was frowning hard at some minute piece of something or the other on the ground... beside the grey dumpster. Danny was bouncing excitedly on his toes as he snapped away at the grey fencing that had been snipped through as a possible escape route for their killer. Hawkes was bending low over the body, mumbling on about what the cold did to a corpse but Flack had blocked him out, his words a bore on this freezing morning. He looked up as Jo pulled up in the Avalanche, the Southern woman stepping straight out into a puddle as she exited the vehicle and a loud 'God darn it,' coming to his ears. It was just how he'd predicted it would be. And then there was the body. A male. Roughly thirty five years of age. His age. There was nothing remotely interesting about his death thus far. Shot in the back in an alley, body dragged behind a dumpster and hidden by a large plastic covering and two cardboard boxes. No doubt it was a crime for money, possibly a robbery, though jealousy and revenge could never be ruled out at this early stage. Either way, the man was dead, and Flack new it was now his job to find the reason why.

Flack stared down at the body, the sight of a corpse may not have shocked him in the slightest, no matter how gruesome or gory, but this one was strangely getting to him. Perhaps it was due to the similarities to himself; the age or the sex...Flack wasn't sure. Or more than likely it was because of what had happened last night. He had an unsettling feeling in his stomach. Perhaps he should have eaten breakfast before coming out. This man had died last night though, in the snow, in the dark, in the nothingness that had come down over the city and smothered it. Flack had been out in it, had almost died, had been attacked by two kids and could easily have been the body that was now being investigated that morning. Flack swallowed at the thought. He could be dead right now. But Aiden had saved him, come to him through the night and pulled him into that revolting cafe. She had been his saviour and yet disappeared without a trace. And he wondered now if he'd imagined it all.

"You know they say nobody is dead until they are warm and dead," Hawkes murmured as he stood and looked at Flack.

"What?" Flack growled.

"I said, nobody is dead until..."

"I heard," Flack snapped as he turned and left the site of the body slumped against the wall of the building.

"What's eaten you today?" Hawkes shouted after him as Flack made his way through the sludge and away from the corpse and doctor.

He was sick to death of standing in the snow, waiting for nothing. Perhaps there were witnesses he could be questioning. Someone should really be canvassing the area.

"Hey Flack. Wait up," called Danny from behind him and he heard the older man rushing to catch up.

Flack turned and waited for the excitable CSI to reach him.

"Whoa, you look like shit man," Danny murmured, skidding to a halt right in front of the tall detective.

"Is that all?" Flack grouched at him. He knew he looked like shit, he felt like shit too.

"Someone got out of bed the wrong side," Danny said chuckling. "You get up to anything exciting last night?"

Flack thought about what to tell his friend. After all, Danny had been good friends with Aiden too, best friends in fact. Danny and Aiden had been inseparable, always joking around and never taking life too seriously. But she had never liked him as anything more than a friend and his schoolboy crush on her had instantly evaporated when he'd realised she would never go there. No, she had never really seemed interested in either of them, always playing away with guys from other jobs. But Flack had always loved her deeply and had never said anything. Whether Messer had guessed or not he wasn't sure. He probably had, Danny wasn't a CSI for nothing.

"No, nothing good," Flack replied curtly.

"So how'd you get that nose?" Danny asked curiously.

Flack was well aware of the bruising around his nose and eyes that made him look like he'd gone ten rounds in the ring. Wait...the ring...

"I did a few rounds down the boxing ring. I'm getting better," Flack shrugged.

"Yeah, looks like it," Danny sniggered. "Well I had an awful night. Linds has this real thing against gherkins at the moment and like the idiot I am I completely forgot and made a pickled egg and gherkin sandwich last night for my tea. And my God if she didn't start vomiting everywhere because of the smell. And I mean it was like everywhere. She got it in her hair, in the sink, the bath, all over the floor, our bed, the nightstand..."

Flack started to blank out Danny's voice as his mind wondered back to the events of the night before. Aiden. She'd really been there. In Queens. Alive. They'd had coffee together, he'd... Flack furrowed his forehead. He'd been as ass. He'd known he was being an ass at the time but couldn't help it. He'd felt so angry at her for lying to him all these years, for keeping a secret like that and not entrusting him with it. But then all he'd ever wanted to do, if he'd got the chance, was to hug her, to kiss her, to let her know exactly what feelings he'd held so dear to himself all these years. He'd sworn to himself that if he'd ever got the chance to tell her he would. He'd been a liar. He hadn't done that. All he had done was make things tense and awkward between them and now he would never see her again.

"And I think Lucy has caught this bug at school, like flu or something cos oh my God have I never seen so much puke come out of someone so small. I mean she was really throwing her guts up and Lindsay had taken up all the room in the bathroom. So she was stood over the kitchen sink and it was literally going everywhere; dripping down the side, all over the countertop..." Danny continued, unaware Flack had stopped listening.

Flack had seen the look that had flashed across her face when he'd mentioned he'd nearly died. It had been fear...but why? What was it that she feared so badly? That he had almost died and she hadn't been there? That she had lied to him and because of that she might not have ever seen him again? That she had lost him for good? Flack snorted. He was making things up in his head. She didn't care for him and never had done. They'd never so much as even kissed. Sure he'd received the peck on the cheek every once in a while, even one time on the mouth when she'd been pissed and had stumbled as she'd gone in for his cheek. She hadn't even noticed... but he had. He'd been stone cold sober that night.

"And then you know what it's like when other people are puking up and it makes you want to vomit yourself. So I had to just grab the nearest bin and was sick into it. And you know how it gets real stuck in the back of your throat and you can kinda feel the lumps there? Well it was like that and my mouth was all dry and the back of my throat was burning and then Lucy was sick in my lap as I tried to get her to go back to sleep which made me vom in her bed. And I had it in my hair and on my face..."

Flack closed his eyes as he thought of that brief moment with Aiden. The moment she had just brushed her lips against his before giggling and then disappearing off to pull some other man. He'd turned to see Danny watching him curiously, a look of somewhat pity on his face. Of course he'd known. Flack had learnt over the years that he was damn obvious when it came to matters of the heart. And that was how he'd ended up killing a man. Flack suddenly wobbled as an image flashed through his mind. The one that continually haunted him through his grey existence. A man lying on the ground...

"Even Mr Woo next door was sick last night, though I have a funny feeling that might have been from something totally different..."

Flack wrenched his thoughts away from Simon Cade and stared at Danny. He was still moaning on about vomit, highly unappealing at this early hour of the morning.

"Hey," Danny suddenly said. "You don't look so good; maybe you caught this bug too?"

"I'm fine, Danno," Flack muttered. "Just sick of this cold."

"You and me both, Donny boy," Danny agreed. "Still, at least the city is looking a bit more cheery today? I mean well, apart from John Doe over there, eh?"

"I'm gonna take a look around, canvass the area... a few shops round here," Flack muttered and then turned down the sidewalk. So it was just he who saw the world through a blanket of grey.

"I'll catch you later. Hey you wanna come round for a beer tonight?" Danny called after him.

"Err... take a rain check on that," Flack shouted back, not wanting to step forth into the apartment of puke in the slightest way.

"Okay sure. Well if you change your mind..." Danny called after him as he watched Flack stomp away. Something was definitely up with the tall, dark-haired detective. Maybe he and Lovato had had a fight. He'd ask her about it later.

Flack trudged down the sidewalk looking at the buildings as they slid past him for any one that might have been open throughout the night. So far it wasn't looking too hopeful. Suddenly he saw a figure staring at him from across the street, she was standing in the mouth of an alley, hood up so he didn't really know if it was her, but it had to be. She had returned. Flack dashed across the road, holding his badge out to appease the angry motorists who skidded to a halt.

"Oi, don't make me break like that on this snow. It's dangerous dickwad!" one shouted out of his window.

"Fuck you!" Flack shouted back, uncaring for what impression he was giving off about the NYPD.

"Jerk!" he heard the guy yell back as he drove away.

Flack looked back up at the mouth to the alley. It was empty. She had gone. He took a few steps towards it, the unsettling feeling in his stomach leaping about inside him like it were performing some crazy and complex dance routine to the music from Flashdance. Not that he knew what Flashdance was of course. Flack sighed as he turned around about to make his way back to the crimescene.

Suddenly a hand closed around his mouth and he struggled for air. He could feel himself being dragged backwards into the alley and tried to throw his assailant off but they were strong. Flack growled and then bit his teeth into the gloved hand hard. He heard a cry of pain and grinned as he was released.

"What the fuck, Flack?"

Flack gawped at the woman before him. Aiden.

"Whaddaya mean? I should be saying that to you. Why'd you try to kidnap me?" he snapped.

"I wasn't. I just wanted to talk to you," she replied curtly.

"There are better ways to accomplish that," Flack told her angrily while his brain begged him to be nicer this time.

"Not if I don't want to be seen," she growled. "Especially not by your team."

Flack opened his mouth to retort back, thought for a moment and then finally closed it again. He knew they both had fiery temperaments, that this exchanged of comments could go on forever if they had the time.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Flack asked, trying to stay calm.

"The body. What do they know?" she said swiftly.

"Huh?" Flack frowned.

"The body. You know, the one you've been standing by for the best part of two hours," she said, almost rolling her eyes at his stupidity.

"Oh. What do you mean, what do they know? I can't discuss that with you," Flack retorted.

"Stop being so by the book, Flack. It doesn't suit you," Aiden commented. "I need to know if you know who he is?"

Flack growled at her again but refrained from snapping. He wanted to be nicer this time but it was proving to be difficult. He still felt so angry at her and his emotions were getting the best of him.

"We only just found him, Aiden. Course we don't know who he is yet. There was no ID. But the CSIs have found lots of evidence so it shouldn't be too long..."

"Shit," she cursed, turning away from him for a moment.

"What's going on?" Flack asked, well aware that she must have some connection to the body, if he was reading her right...and he was. He knew he was. He was damn good at reading people.

"He was my informant, Flack. The guy I was meeting last night," she explained.

Flack stared back at her blankly, not understanding the severity of the situation one bit. But then he had no idea what she did now or who she'd become.

"Don't look at me like that, Flack, because I know you're not a thick as you like to make out," she said bluntly. "That guy had information. Information he gave me last night. If he told the same information to whoever killed him..."

"He wasn't tortured, if that's what you're asking," Flack replied. "Just shot in the back. Looks more like robbery to me."

"It's a cover up," Aiden said quickly. "Shit. I need to let the others know. If he told someone else, they could be going into a trap."

"Aiden, slow down," Flack sighed. "What others? What trap? What is going on here?"

"I can't tell you," she said in frustration.

"Well then I'm gonna go," Flack snapped as he turned to leave.

"No, Flack. Wait!" she cried and grabbed hold of his wrist.

Flack turned and was suddenly confronted by two deep brown eyes that told such a story. One of pain and fear and if he wasn't too mistaken, loss.

"Aiden, I need you to throw me a bone here. What do you want?" Flack asked wearily.

"I need your help," she asked worriedly.

"Help? After what you did?" Flack laughed. "You walk back into my life after seven years and you expect me to help you? Why should I?"

"Because you're a friend, Flack," she said sincerely. And the hand that was still holding his wrist gently grazed bare skin under his coat sleeve.

"If I was a friend you'd have told me what was going on. That you were alive," Flack replied and pulled his arm away.

"Then help me because it's the right thing to do," she pleaded.

"What do you even want me to do?" Flack asked.

"The evidence they're collecting... I need you to destroy it. I can't have anyone finding out who my informant is," she replied, watching him carefully.

"What?" Flack shouted. "What the fuck, Aiden? You want me to destroy evidence. No way. Absolutely no way."

"Please," she begged. "They can't know who he is or that I saw him last night."

"It's not my problem," Flack yelled. "And destroying evidence is more than my job's worth. How do I even know I can trust you?"

"Because it's me...it's Aiden," she excused.

"What, the woman who I thought was dead for the last seven years? Who suddenly reappears with some cock and bull story about the FBI and a secret undercover mission. You could be working for anyone for all I know. How do I know it wasn't you who killed him and now you're just getting me to help you cover it up?"

"Because you know me better than that, Flack!" she shouted.

"I don't know you at all," Flack replied angrily. "The woman I knew died seven years ago. You...you're an apparition that shouldn't even exist."

Aiden stared at him in shock and once more a look of fear passed across her face. Flack still didn't understand what it meant.

"I was just trying to protect you by not telling you," she finally sighed, exhausted by their arguing.

"Protect me?" Flack sniggered. "I don't need protecting. And is that why you now want to get me involved?"

"Flack, you don't understand. If they know I was seeing him, getting information..."

"Who's they?" Flack ground out once again.

"I can't tell you," she said sorrowfully.

"Then I can't help you," Flack replied and turned from the alley. This was hopeless and they were just going round in circles.

He reached the mouth of the alley and looked back at her, her eyes still pleading with him and tugging at his heart. He sighed wearily and scratched at his head.

"I'm sorry, Aiden."

And then he walked back out into the street and disappeared amongst the people. He didn't look back, didn't know if she was watching him or not. His heart ached like it was in hell and that a stake was being repeatedly driven into it. But then he wasn't in hell, he hadn't quite descended that far yet. No, he was in purgatory, living an eternity of not knowing whether he was to be damned to hell or heaven. And that was worse.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N - Thank you to all reviewers :) George.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

People. Human beings. Homosapiens. Scurrying about the Earth as they journeyed through their lives like tiny ants on the ground. Occasionally bumping into one another, their lives touching in an instant, no matter how long it was for. And then they were off, continuing on their journey again into the afterlife and beyond. It was curious, how very strange a breed they were. Their kind so vast and different in every way possible; interests, looks, skills, favourites and yet they were all so very distinct and individual. No two the same, not even twins. And they congregated in the very oddest of places, jostling with each other to get through the day, pushing past and shouting, flinging items around, laughing loudly, sobbing with pain, every human emotion possible. Flack found himself surrounded by them all. Like the still epicentre of a tornado. A calm, surrounded by the chaos of life. For although his insides were tumultuous after the past night's and morning's events, outwardly he was numb; uncaring for the everyday matters that concerned his life. And the sounds around him were just irritating and headache-inducing as he sat at his desk while the world passed him by.

Flack threw two pills into his mouth and swallowed them down with a plastic cup full of tasteless water. No, that was a lie. Really the water wasn't tasteless. It had the feint aroma of staleness, of a stagnant pond that had been left too long untended. And the taste, well, Flack assumed that it tasted rather like that too, but in the end it was only a supposition. He'd never had the inclination to drink water from a stagnant pond, or even go near one. He threw the plastic cup into the disposal and glared daggers at the water cooler as he stomped away back to his desk. A coffee would have been a better pick-me-up but he'd already had six cups that day and had started to get the shakes. He liked it black and bitter, bitter like his soul, and as hot as it could get. So hot it burnt right through as it had done back in the cafe... the cafe with Aiden.

Flack wiped a hand over his sweaty brow as he collapsed into his chair and rubbed at his temple. Pills always took so damn long to work, and his head felt like hellfire was burning in it. His hands shook as he brought them down and he grabbed hold of the edge of his desk to steady them. His nerves were shot. He didn't know what to do. Aiden wanted him to destroy evidence, which went against every instinct he had as a cop. But then he knew deep down he would do anything for her. Flack coughed and felt the burn of bile at the back of his throat. Maybe he was coming down with something? Bloody Messer and his children's germs. Flack hated that. He groaned and went to rub his temple again before deciding to leave his hands where they were, they still shook badly. Who was Aiden working for? That was the question. It could be anyone, some sort of shady gang or mafia, he had no idea.

"Flack?"

Flack looked up, biting back more bile from the pain of moving his head to see Lovato standing next to his desk.

"Lovato," Flack nodded, his teeth clenched together jaw hard.

"You're not looking so good, you okay?" she asked as she came nearer, perching on his desk.

Flack could sense she wanted to reach out, to touch his face, even his arm for some contact. But he didn't want that. He didn't want to be near her, she wasn't who he loved.

"I'm fine," he ground out.

"What happened to your nose?" she asked and instinctively moved her hand.

Flack flinched and she froze, drawing her hand back immediately.

"What's wrong?" she asked, clearly concerned.

"Nothing's wrong, Lovato, I'm just busy, jeez," Flack snapped as he wiped at his sweaty brow. He could feel his pale blue shirt and vest underneath becoming damp at his back.

"Then why won't you let me in?" she hissed. "I called round your place last night after work, you weren't in. Where were you?"

"What's it to you where I go?" Flack almost shouted before remembering where he was.

Lovato looked taken aback. She stood and swept her dark hair over her shoulder.

"It's nothing to me, Flack," she said curtly. "Not anymore. And neither are you."

She stormed away out of the bullpen and Flack glared after her. So that was them done then. He couldn't bring himself to care. He'd never liked her much anyway, only a substitute for a woman he had lost, and she only being a substitute herself for the woman he truly loved. No, Lovato had never made him happy, she was too immature in life and amateur at her job, he'd covered for her a few times and had regretted it almost immediately. She should have been trained for longer before promoted to the rank of detective. If he was honest, he'd only pursued her because he'd been lonely, and there was only so much loneliness a man could take.

Flack leant back in his chair and waited for the pills to kick in. His head was pounding... pounding... pounding...beats thumping away. It was so loud. He swallowed as it almost made him dizzy; he was feeling sick anyway. The lights were so bright and flashing in his face, which was fast becoming irritating. He'd always hated places like this anyway. The music was too damn loud and it was God awful drum and base they were playing. He couldn't even hear Danny properly over the heavy base and the alcohol sloshing around in his stomach was making him want to throw up. He gulped in the hazy, sweaty air and stood up, falling against the table to which he grabbed hold of to stop his journey to the sticky floor.

"Whoa Flack, how much have you drunk?" Danny chuckled as his gaze was distracted by a pretty woman who walked past.

"Yeah, thanks for the concern," Flack mumbled as he held onto the table and blinked, trying to get his vision to stay still just for one moment.

"There are so many hot chicks here tonight," Danny said, his mouth slightly agape in awe. "Why have we never come here before?"

"Because we don't like drum and base or loud music or overpriced drinks," Flack snarked. "We like sitting in a dingy bar, having a few, playing some rounds of pool or darts and then stumbling off home. Possibly getting a pizza or kebab on the way."

"You make us sound dull," Danny snorted as downed his fluorescent blue shot.

"Maybe I am dull but I like being dull," Flack moaned as he frowned. His vision wasn't becoming any clearer and the strobe lighting that suddenly flashed on wasn't helping.

"Well I'm gonna make this place my local," Danny grinned. "I could take home a different girl every time. It's like I finally discovered where they were all hiding."

"Bit stalkerish, Danno, bit stalkerish," Flack nodded as he thudded heavily back onto his stool. He'd wait to try and make his way to the toilet. He didn't feel the need to vomit as badly now and as he had no idea how to even walk anymore it seemed like a better idea just to stay sitting where he was.

"Hmm, yeah, I guess it did a bit," Danny laughed. "Oh well...hey... now she is smoking..."

Flack glanced in the direction of Danny's gaze and watched as an attractive blonde headed onto the dancefloor and started dancing about. The music was gradually changing to something different, but nothing he recognised. His attention was drawn to the woman next to the blonde. The dark-haired woman who had brought them both there. She swayed her hips sensuously on the dancefloor and Flack became entranced in her movement. Every single thrust of her hips, the way she raised her arms above her head, her breasts jutting out. Flack felt the blood surge through his body and his vision suddenly cleared. She was perfect. His breath suddenly caught in his throat and he let out a soft gasp as her arms entangled around the body of another, of Kali and then the two moved in perfect unison. Swaying as a single entity and Flack almost felt jealous of Kali. It was ridiculous, she was a women and one of Aiden's best girlfriends. And yet he wanted to be the one up there dancing with Aiden, having her hips rub against his groin, putting his arms possessively around her and letting all the other men know she was his. Unexpectedly her shining brown eyes suddenly looked up for a moment and caught his, entangling him in her gaze, seducing him so that he felt himself falling. Falling deeply...

"You checking out Maka?" Danny slurred as he leant over the table and prodded Flack in the arm.

"Ouch," Flack growled and glanced at Danny.

It was a mistake. By the time he looked back over at Aiden she was looking at Kali and had forgotten the previous moment.

"Fuck," Flack whispered under his breath.

Danny was still grinning wildly at him like a magnificent clown.

"What?" Flack snapped.

"You like Maka," Danny teased, drum rolling on the table with his hands.

"I do not like Maka," Flack retorted angrily.

"Good," Danny nodded. "Cos I do so keep your dirty paws off. She's mine."

Flack snorted into his glass as he drank some of the whiskey in it. Whatever made him decide it was a good idea to have another drink was instantly regretted and he quickly slammed the glass back down.

"Never gonna happen, Mess. She's way outta your league."

"Oh ho, I think not. I think she likes my Messer charm," Danny replied.

"What charm?" Flack added as Danny kicked him hard under the table.

"Stop beating me up," Flack yelped rubbing at his sore shin.

"I'm gonna go for it," Danny nodded as though he hadn't heard Flack complain.

"Yeah good luck with that then," Flack said sarcastically.

"I'd like to get with a cop," Danny mused.

"Shallow bastard," Flack smirked. "I'm surprised you haven't already."

"Never shit where you eat," Danny said wisely.

"Nice," Flack murmured.

"But I'm gonna get with Maka. I reckon a cop would make a good girlfriend, be all tough, not all prissy and feminine," Danny grinned.

Flack snorted with laughter. Clearly alcohol was very much hampering Danny's thoughts. Flack knew he liked Kali. He had for a while now. But then again, Danny liked most things in a skirt.

"I like a woman to be feminine," Flack smirked at Danny. "And what's this about making her your girlfriend, eh? Next we'll be hearing wedding bells!"

Danny grinned good-naturedly at his friend. "No way. I ain't ever letting a woman tie this down. It would be a loss to womankind," he said as he gestured to himself. "And I certainly wouldn't be marrying no cop that's for sure."

"Who's marrying a cop?"

Flack felt a delicate arm thrown over his shoulders and then a scent came to his nose. Not the putrid one of sweat and vomit and smoke that had previously been filling his nostrils but a new one. One of coconut and mango, as locks of black hair brushed across his face. Of woman and of Aiden as she leant against him. He momentarily closed his eyes and absorbed her scent.

"You okay there, Donny boy?" Aiden asked, looking concerned.

Her head was right next to his, so close her could feel her breath on his face. He opened his eyes and was faced with those full lips, so close, so kissable... if he just leant forward... only a matter of centimetres.

"He's alright, aren't ya Flack?" Danny said loudly and Flack tore his eyes from Aiden's lips.

"Yeah, think I'm sobering up a bit actually," Flack muttered, swallowing deeply to gain some of his breath back.

"Sober?!" Aiden giggled. "Then you can dance with me. Kali's getting tired."

Flack found himself being pulled up from his stool and then led across the sticky, glass-fragment covered floor to where the crowd were dancing. Sweat covered bodies banged into him from all sides and he stumbled forward but was caught by sturdy hands. Safe hands. Aiden smiled at him and then turned, once again swaying sensuously in time with the rhythm and Flack froze, heart stopping in his chest. He simply stood like a gaping idiot in the middle of the dancefloor, statuesque in every way as the dark-haired woman rubbed against him, hair whipping into his face, the sweat of their bodies making their clothes cling together and Flack felt the heat rising in him. It was everything he'd imagined and so much more. And then she turned and their eyes connected. Once more her lips were only a matter of centimetres from his. He tilted his head down as his heart started up again, thumping painfully in his chest. She was looking up at him, the gap was closing. Figures swirled around them, around their pocket of frozen time. The air was evaporating from his lungs, her eyes glistening before him, their souls touching in an instant and he closed his eyes as he leant forward.

"Flack!"

Flack jolted awake as his eyes shot open to stare into the angry ones of his Captain.

"No sleeping on the job, Sonny," the Captain growled before storming off to his office.

Flack frowned as he noticed the whispers and little sniggers of laughter from around him. He glared at the other cops before turning back to his desk and grabbing hold of his mug. He supped at the inch of liquid remaining in the bottom of his 'World's Best Copper' mug that Sam had bought him before realising the coffee was at least an hour old and stone cold.

"Fuck," he swore as he slammed the mug angrily back down on the desk, half missing the coaster so the mug titled and almost spilt its contents.

He then turned to his computer. There were seventeen new emails showing. Seventeen already and he couldn't have had his eyes closed for more than five minutes. He took a deep intake of breath as he remembered what he'd been thinking about. A memory. A memory of Aiden and the night they'd all gone out; her, Danny, Maka and himself. Danny had taken Maka home that night and slept with her. She never spoken to him again after that and soon transferred out of the precinct to be replaced by... by Jess. Flack gulped as he remembered his dead love. He'd loved her so much, finally someone to fill the void left in his life after Aiden. And he knew he would have been happy, he'd loved Jess with all his heart, maybe not to the same extent or with as much passion and burning desire as he'd had for Aiden. But he'd been happy, until that had been snatched from him too.

His computer beeped at him as an eighteenth email appeared in his inbox and Flack snarled with vehemence at the electronic machine, as though blaming it for those human beings that were bothering him today. Fuck it. He was going to get out. He couldn't work; his mind was all over the place. He was supposed to be helping people, investigating a murder, either that or destroying the evidence. As to which he hadn't really made up his mind. He stood and grabbed his dark coat from the back of his chair, storming from the bullpen as though he was utterly offended by all those who were currently in it. As he got out onto the steps he noticed the mist had come down again and enveloped the streets in a bright white. He growled at it, as though hoping it might be scared by his foul temper and quickly evaporate. That did not happen. He pursed his lips and then looked both ways up and down the street. Left or right? Home or CrimeLab? He wavered, hesitating in both directions and then turned to the car lot where he knew his car was. He'd rather walk than put up with the midday traffic, even though he knew he'd regret it as soon as he reached whichever destination he ended up at. Left for home, for safety, for collapsing into bed and sleeping until a new day had risen and he could forget all about Aiden. Or right. Right to the Crime Lab, to the evidence, to the destruction of not only it but also quite possibly his career. His head led him left, his heart right, and Flack knew he'd always been a sucker for love. He hesitated again and someone pushed past him on their way inside making him stumble down the final step. Rude. Flack zipped up his coat and then turned along the sidewalk and paced away from the precinct. Heading down to the right.

It wasn't a long walk and he made quick work of the journey, eyes down the whole time, not wanting to connect with anyone else that day. The mist felt wet and his clothes dampened as he walked. He could tell it was getting thicker and that it was more than likely going to snow at any minute. As if reading his mind he felt a cold spot on his nose as a flake landed on it and then a few more wisped down through the mist, a slightly more solid white compared against the vaporous white of the mist. He wished he'd driven now, he knew he'd regret walking but as he arrived at the familiar corner and looked up, all thoughts of the weather and his car were gone. Jutting out of the fog before him, rising through the drifting mist like some towering behemoth, stood the skyscraper that housed the Crime Lab. The end of the road for him. The end of the line. Flack knew if he did this there was no going back, he'd be involved in whatever shady group Aiden was with. He'd most likely be caught and sent to jail and a cop never lasted long in jail. It would be his death.

As Flack stared up at impending death he shivered at the mist around him. Then he moved a foot forward and then another towards the doors. It was on his third step that a hand closed over his mouth and suddenly a very different sort of panic surged through his body. He was being dragged backwards, but it wasn't like last time with Aiden... no, this grip was much stronger and the hand smelt musky and dirty. It was a man. Flack struggled as breathing started to become difficult. His hands pulled at the fat dirty hand covering his mouth until his arms were pulled back. How many there were he couldn't be sure. They moved quickly and blurred into the fog.

"Mmphhh..." Flack moaned as he struggled against whoever held him.

And then a sharp pain shot through his head, emanating from the back of his skull and he slumped. He was only just aware of being thrown into the back of a van. And then the very bright white of the mist was swallowed up by black. Pitch black. The deep, dark black of hell.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N - Thank you reviewrs and readers!

* * *

**Chapter Five**

It was buzzing. Everywhere was buzzing. People as they flew past; walking hurriedly up and down the corridors, the lights as they gleamed down from overhead; illuminating everything in an almost clinical bluish-white light and the machines as they clicked and whirred; the electrical currents that powered them flowing through them and buzzing excitedly. Life was buzzing as it worked and whirled in a confusion of puzzles and challenges and emotions. But it was positive and the movement forward, the passing of time meant that new ideas could be explored; new faces were to be seen, new people to meet and new connections to be made. Life was good, it progressed and got better and joy was always there to be found, waiting in even the darkest of places for the most sorry of souls.

Danny Messer let out a contented sigh as he placed his last piece of trace away in a tiny clear pocket and then added it into the larger envelope of evidence. His results had been successful and he would go and find Mac to let him know what he had discovered. It had taken him the best part of the day and the light of the sun had already disappeared by the time he exited the trace lab and glanced out of the windows. All over the city lights were flickering on and his gaze shifted down to the small dial on his left wrist. 5 o'clock; the start of the evening which thus became the start of the night. He knew Mac would let him off home soon; he needed to get back and see how the girls were doing. Danny frowned as he noticed his boss' office was devoid of any boss shaped figures sitting at the desk or standing and looking at his walls. He sighed and wearily turned when the most delicious aroma came to his nose. He sniffed and closed his eyes as he breathed it in; it smelt divine... it smelt like heaven... it smelt like...coffee.

Danny turned and drifted his way towards the breakroom and over to the fresh coffee that sat in a pot on the hot stand. A pretty blonde lab tech smiled at him as she passed him by with her own steaming mug and he flashed her a grin showing too many teeth for it to be convincing. Yes, he enjoyed a pretty face and yes, he still did the odd bit of flirting and he was even quite partial to checking out the rear side of some of the more buxom ladies that worked in the lab. But he deeply loved his wife and nothing would ever change that, sometimes he even doubted that death would. He smiled again as he thought of his wife and then poured himself out a cup of coffee. He gently perched on a stool, taking the weight off weary feet and sipped the steaming black drink with three added sugars. The first taste sent shivers down his spine, the second made him release an audible sigh of satisfaction and the third had him moving to a couch to make himself more comfortable. He could find Mac in a few minutes time; he deserved a break after working non-stop for most of the day.

He placed his feet up onto the small stool in front of him and leant his head back, eyes drifting closed. Coffee was such a remarkable thing really, just a few small beans but with such powerful properties that made him feel so good. So awake and enlivened to work on and power through to solve a case. He could have done with some that morning really... so could have Flack. Danny frowned as his mind turned to thoughts of his best friend. He'd looked shit that morning and that was despite the broken nose and bruised face. He was edgy... nervous and yet distant and off-hand. It was most unlike Flack who was always on the ball except for those few months after Jess had passed. It was like he'd become another person during those months. Danny's frown deepened as his thoughts focused more intently on his friend. And yet Flack had always been a little distant for some time before that, never the cheerful chappy he'd first been since that one night. Danny's eyes flashed open as he thought of that night. It had been a good night and he remembered it like it was yesterday.

It had been a few weeks before she'd died. That had been half the problem and they'd met up with her, all three of them; himself, Flack and Kali Maka. Aiden had taken them to a strange bar, not in their usual vicinity and she'd seemed a little distant. She wouldn't talk about her new job... but then again, none of them had wanted to talk work so they'd got pissed instead. The music was a thick drum and bass and was thumping loudly out from the speakers. He could feel the alcohol hampering his every move but it made him all warm and fuzzy inside; as if there was a hot water bottle in his tummy. The lights of the club were flashing brightly and illuminating the females' posteriors very pleasantly. Danny grinned as he looked them over before his eyes settled on the dark haired man across from him. Flack was leaning against the table, holding on tightly as though he might collapse at any second. Danny felt himself snigger loudly, Flack had always been a lousy drunk... man couldn't hold his alcohol at all.

"Whoa Flack, how much have you had to drink, buddy?" he chuckled. Suddenly a gorgeous woman walked past behind Flack and he was momentarily distracted.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me," Flack mumbled in reply. He didn't look fine though. Always trying to be the tough guy.

"This place has such gorgeous women, why have we never been here before?" Danny asked as he was once more distracted.

"Because this place isn't our type of thing," Flack grumbled in reply.

"We should make it our type of thing," Danny grinned excitedly and then downed his fluorescent yellow shot.

"Well then I'm probably just dull," Flack frowned and Danny nodded.

"That you are, my friend. But whether you do or not, I'm sure making this place my local. Just look at all these girls," Danny smiled.

"Maybe you're right," Flack replied as he slid back onto his stool. "They'd probably all love to go home with you, Danno. You'll be fighting them off."

"Course I will," Danny laughed. "Now would you look at her..."

He found himself staring as a beautiful blonde made her way to the dancefloor and started swaying about. The music was changing slightly and Danny found he had the urge to get up and go over, maybe sidling up to her and introducing himself. Suddenly he noticed Aiden dancing nearby; she looked a bit funny though, that girl was always clowning around. But then she put her arms around Kali and boy was that hot! Danny found himself gawping as he watched Kali dancing about next to Aiden. He'd always had the hots for her and perhaps this night might be his chance... He turned to Flack for his opinion and frowned as he noticed Flack staring as well.

"You checking out Maka?" he slurred as he leant over the table and gently touched Flack on the arm.

"Ouch," Flack moaned like a big girl.

"Do you like Maka?" Danny asked again, slightly concerned.

"No, I do not like Maka," Flack replied.

"Good," Danny nodded. "Cos I do so keep your paws off. She's mine."

"You should go for it, Mess. I reckon she likes you back too," Flack urged.

"It's probably my Messer charm," Danny grinned.

"You're so lucky, I wish I could be as successful with the ladies as you," sighed Flack.

"Don't worry buddy. You'll get there, just watch and learn from the master," Danny laughed, gesturing to himself.

"Good luck then," Flack smiled. "Though you won't need it."

"Thanks. I reckon a cop would even make a good girlfriend," Danny grinned.

"Girlfriend, eh?" Flack smirked. "Next we'll be hearing wedding bells!"

Danny grinned good-naturedly at his friend. "Never say never, Flack. I reckon I'd be mightily lucky to marry a cop. Just gotta find the right one first."

"Who's marrying a cop?" Aiden grinned as she came over and threw an arm around Flack's shoulders.

Danny smiled back at her and then turned to Kali who had also come over and flashed her his most charming of grins.

"You okay there, Donny boy?" Aiden asked, looking in concern at Flack.

"He's alright, aren't ya Flack?" Danny said loudly.

"Yeah, think I'm sobering up a bit actually," Flack muttered.

"Sober?!" Aiden giggled. "Then you can dance with me. Kali's getting tired."

Danny watched as Flack was pulled off his stool and dragged away to the dancefloor. Then he turned back to Kali again and gave her another smile.

"Hey, Kali, you having fun?" Danny asked.

"Sure am, it's so much better with you guys here," she replied.

"Why thank you," Danny chuckled. "Everything's better with a bit of Messer in it."

"Is that so?" Kali asked in interest.

Danny nodded and then suddenly his attention was caught by his two best friends on the dancefloor. They were staring deeply at each other, bodies pressed closely together and it seemed as if they'd forgotten the whole world around them still existed.

"Well fuck me..." Danny murmured under his breath.

He could see Flack slowly tilting his head down, lips moving closer to meet hers. They were going to kiss, Flack had been checking out Aiden not Maka. And everything suddenly clicked into place. Flack. Aiden. Aiden. Flack. Flack was in love with Aiden. That was why he was so hopeless with the ladies, not because he actually didn't know how to pull but because he didn't want to. Danny could see Flack's eyes flutter closed and his heart almost leapt with joy for his two friends, this would be perfect. The two people he loved most in the world, bar his family, getting together. And they were so suited to each other as well. He could see the wedding now, he'd be best man, Kali would be bridesmaid with possibly Stella... though she was a little old for that now.

"Hey Aiden!"

"Aidennnnnn...!"

Danny heard the cries of his friend's name and watched as two huge blokes appeared from the crowd, grinning jovially. Aiden pulled back and turned before letting out a squeal of delight and bounding over to them to be wrapped up in two huge bear hugs. These men were obviously old friends of hers though Danny had never seen them before. He looked back to Flack who had frozen on the dancefloor and was staring at them with a look that Danny didn't recognise. And then he suddenly turned and stalked away, towards the exit of the club.

"Flack!" Danny yelled as he jumped up and started to make his way towards his friend.

"Danny, you're not leaving are you?"

It was Maka. And Danny turned back towards her as Flack disappeared out of the club. He sighed and then made his way back to the table. He'd check on Flack in the morning; guy probably just need a few hours by himself to cool off and get his head straight.

"Now where were we?" Kali asked, smiling slightly.

Danny frowned as he stood from the couch in the breakroom and placed his mug onto the counter. Flack had never been the same after that night. The next day he'd shown up to work with this frosty exterior and his sarcasm was much more evident. He saw less joy in the world and was far too cynical for his age. At the time Danny thought it might have been due to the fact Aiden had died a few weeks later. But it wasn't that, he saw that now. Flack had been dying of a broken heart. When she'd turned from him to hug those two men, she'd rejected Flack and in doing so broken his heart and any hope he might have had that they'd get together. Danny felt such sorrow for his friend. He'd been a broken man long before Jess died, and long before those events that had followed. He pulled out his phone and pressed two on his speedial. He waited as the phone rang and then heard the other man answer.

_"Flack."_

"Hey Flack, it's..."

_"I'm not here right now, so leave a message and I'll get back to you."_

Danny frowned and then shut his phone. It was most unusual for Flack not to answer his phone, especially as he was still on call. Danny made up his mind. He'd go down to the precinct and find out what was up with his friend, maybe he was just feeling poorly like the girls were.

Five minutes later Danny found himself trudging through the snow on his way to the precinct. He'd passed the results of the trace onto Hawkes who was going to brief Mac for him. The evening traffic was at a standstill all down the street, 5.30pm; hometime for so many. He sighed wearily as he crossed the road and then went on down the next street. He would have rung Flack but he didn't want the detective to be forewarned of his impending arrival. If he knew he was about to get the Spanish Inquisition, he'd most likely scarper and then Danny would never find out what was bugging his friend. Suddenly a hand closed over his mouth and he found himself pulled backwards through the snow. His feet skidded over it, trying to get some grip... trying to fight back. He wrenched his mouth open and bit hard into the gloved hand. He heard a shriek and frowned as he recognised it as a female's.

"What the hell, bitch?" he snarled as he turned and then almost tripped over backwards in shock.

"Thanks a bunch, Messer," she replied.

"Aiden?" Danny choked, eyes wide and mouth open gormlessly.

"Yes, Messer. It's me," she replied, her dark eyes staring wildly at him.

"It can't be... you're dead!" Danny scoffed, his face unchanging.

"No, I'm not. I'm very much alive," Aiden replied, her eyes shifting around to glance at their surroundings.

"No, you're dead!" Danny stated again.

"No, I'm not. Come on, Messer, I know you got a brain in their somewhere," she sighed.

"But...but...but... how?" he spluttered.

"I was recruited by the F.B.I after Mac fired me and after a few months they wanted to send me away on an undercover mission. Change my identity and they needed Aiden Burn to disappear," she explained.

"So they killed you!" Danny gasped, eyes still wide.

"In a manner of speaking... yes," she nodded. "They needed something to happen to me that would convince you and all of my friends in the NYPD that I was gone for good. It was top secret."

"But what about Pratt?" Danny frowned. "How'd you get him to go along with it?"

"He was set up. The whole thing was planned from the bite mark in the car to the pictures in my apartment. I knew it would be believable for you all to think I'd become obsessed with him and that he'd killed me" Aiden said, her eyes darting about once more.

"Fuck me..." Danny breathed loudly and then scratched at the back of his neck with cold fingers.

"I need your help, Danny, it's urgent," Aiden said hurriedly, not waiting for a moment's pause.

"What? Wait... you need my help? Why?" Danny frowned.

"It's Flack. He's in danger," Aiden replied and her dark eyes took on a slightly sadder and more worried look.

"Flack? He knows too?" Danny gawped. And suddenly it all made sense. Why Flack had acted so strangely that morning. He'd known about Aiden.

"I met Flack by accident last night... it wasn't supposed to happen. I just saw someone being mugged and didn't realise..." Aiden murmured.

"Wow, I bet he took it hard," Danny nodded, remembering what he'd been thinking about back in the lab.

"I had been meeting an informant prior to coming across him," Aiden continued as though she hadn't heard what he'd said. "That informant was the body you were investigating this morning."

"Shit..." Danny swore.

"Exactly," Aiden nodded. "But I think the people who killed him must have seen me with Flack too that night. He's been taken Danny. And they'll kill him."

Danny swallowed as he stared back at her, barely able to comprehend everything she was saying. It was all too much information in too short a space of time. Aiden was alive, she was hunting bad people, the F.B.I, Flack had known, the body was her informant... Flack was in danger...

"Flack's in danger?" Danny choked.

Aiden nodded worriedly at him.

"The people I'm after are bad people, Danny. And I mean really bad. It's taken us years and years to get to the point where we can take them down now. And they have Flack, they sent us a message. As soon as they realise he knows nothing they'll kill him. It's that simple," she replied and Danny wasn't certain but she almost looked like she was about to cry.

"But can't you and your F.B.I buddies go rescue him?" Danny asked, somewhat bitterly.

"No, you don't understand. We're supposed to be taking them down tonight. That's what the number one priority is. None of them care about Flack, if he gets hurt or killed in the process then it's unfortunate but necessary if we are to succeed," she explained hurriedly.

"So you want me to help you?" Danny asked.

"I need you to come with me to get Flack back," Aiden pleaded.

Danny pursed his lips and frowned. Something wasn't right about all this. Aiden suddenly showing up out of the blue... coming back from the dead. And the F.B.I whom she was supposedly working for sounded somewhat suspicious, though certainly not as sinister as whoever had Flack, if that was even true.

"I dunno, Aiden. I can't get involved in anything dangerous like this. I got a family to think about now; a wife and kid and I don't want to put them in jeopardy," Danny muttered.

"But it's Flack," Aiden begged and this time there were tears in her eyes. "He was your family long before they were. We both were."

Danny hesitated for a moment, mulling things over and silently agreeing with her.

"I still don't get why you came to me?" he finally said.

Aiden sighed and then took a step closer, staring into his eyes. "Because you're the only one I can trust, Danny. And the only one who cares about Flack like I do."

Danny sighed and then finally nodded. If there was even the slimmest chance that Flack might be in danger then Danny knew he had to go. It hadn't even really been a decision to make.

"Fine, I'll go. But tell me this. Why are you going after Flack? Why aren't you with the rest of your people, going after whomever it is you're trying to catch?" he asked.

"Because I love him, Danny," she said softly. "I always have... and I won't let him die."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Pain. That intense feeling of physical, mental and emotional distress due to some sensory damage being caused to our being. It ran though his nerve endings like electricity pumped up on crack and bubbled up through his veins like acid. It burnt through his body like a fire sweeping over dry woodland, terrorising the landscape, draining it of everything pure and good and plaguing it with a thick blackened dust that polluted... that destroyed. It was a concentrated and extreme form of malevolence, a corruptive leaking that sought nourishment from his soul and bled it dry as pain had always done to the many. It annihilated all else. No hope. No love. No humanity. No soul. And all that was left in the end was a physical body of pain and torture than ached for everything it had lost.

Flack felt the tears that bled down his face, his soul weeping for all that he'd become. He knew this was what he deserved. This was now his hell and the torture he was suffering was his punishment for that life he'd taken. He knew nothing of what was going on around him anymore, how many times he'd succumbed to the blackness before being beaten awake and tortured all over again. Blood covered his back, chest and torso; burns and knife cuts the cause. But this was his penitence. and he would suffer his due. He was a murderer. Not one other member of his team or friends could say they'd sunk to his lowly depths. Not even Danny, who broke every rule in the book. No, in the end it was only he who was the biggest rule breaker of all, the only one with that darkness inside... with the depth to kill a man in cold blood. Perhaps Mac had done something similar during his time as a Marine? But Mac was so by the book now, anally so, as was Jo who had sacrificed the conviction of John Curtis to stick to the rules. And as for Lindsay and Hawkes, they were even worse, and Adam who would never even have it in him. Perhaps it was only Sid who seemed a little dark at times, but then, working with corpses who wouldn't?

Flack screamed in agony as a fresh wave of pain overtook him and sweat mingled with blood mingled with tears dripped from his face. He could feel his soul dying; its life slowly ebbing away. These men might not have known it but they were creating a monster, should he survive. But that was unlikely. He would be dead by morning, useless as a bargaining tool or informant as these men had clearly hoped. He knew nothing that they wanted. He knew nothing of Aiden Burn or what she stood for. And with her appearance came his slow and painful death; the perfect irony. His head dropped forward as the last of his hope escaped him and he closed himself off to the world. Lost inside his own mind; a prisoner of his thoughts and memories.

He was unaware of when shouting erupted around him, of the sound of guns being fired as doors were kicked down and all hell broke loose. Figures flew through the air, blood splattering over the ground. Loud bangs and scuffles as the three men who held him hostage had their lives stolen from them. And then hands were all over him, he could feel them on him but that was only somewhere distant and far away from where he was, locked in his own mind. Words were shushed at him, soothing tones and whispering and then he was part carried, part dragged and part hauled from the room. There were figures on either side of him. But he let himself go with them, friend or foe he did not know. It was fifteen minutes later when he felt himself being gently lowered onto something soft and there he remained, eyes closed, thoughts overpowering him as visions flashed before his eyes in some jumbled order until they hit on one and repeated it over. A man. A man down on the ground. And a gun raised over him...

Flack.

It was his name, soft and distant but the sound came to his ears and his heart bled out in pain.

Flack.

It was louder this time... and it wasn't coming from Cade. No, he'd never spoken. It was a female... a woman.

Flack.

It was so near, he knew he could reach out for it, he was starving for it, his body and mind deprived of all that was good for so long now.

Flack.

Flack wrenched his thoughts away from the man on the ground and looked up. He saw nothing but darkness and knew he was lost. Yet he heard his name again and swam through the black, searching for that voice, that light, that hope.

Flack.

"Help me..." Flack screamed as he struggled for breath in the blackness that swamped him and two hands grabbed hold of his face. He was nearly there, the light, it was almost within reach. It was his escape from hell. It was his forgiveness.

"Look at me."

Flack wrenched his eyes open with every ounce of strength in his body and stared into the dark eyes of the woman he loved. It was Aiden. And he knew he was safe.

"I'm here, Flack. You're safe," she murmured as she held his head, trying to get his eyes to focus.

"Aiden..." Flack sobbed and he collapsed against her, all strength gone from him. A man weakened from torture, a man destroyed by his own hatred of himself.

"Lean on me, Flack. I won't leave you," Aiden said softly and held him against her as her eyes raised to lock onto those of Danny Messer.

"They're still outside, Aiden. They don't know which building we ran into. They'll search them all if they have to," he said worriedly, and then looked back out of the window.

"Hopefully my team will have taken down the main players by morning. Then we can escape," Aiden replied, stroking a hand through the dark hair of the man she held.

"I hope you're right," Danny said coldly.

"I am," she sighed, cradling Flack's head against her breast.

"What did they do to him?" Danny asked, staring worriedly at his friend.

"Torture. They're masters in it. He'll be okay," she said sorrowfully. "I just regret either of you ever got mixed up in this."

"He'll never be okay," Danny stated as he turned back to the window. "He never was."

Aiden frowned, not exactly understanding to what Danny was referring.

"Aiden..." Flack murmured again and clung on tightly to her body.

Danny turned back and stared at them. They were in a dingy room of an abandoned apartment block. He knew it would take hours for them to be found in amongst the numerous apartments but he was still wary. The room they were in was almost completely empty bar two wooden chairs and a grubby mattress on the floor on which Flack and Aiden were sitting.

"I'm gonna scout out the place, check for weak spots," he muttered. "Give this to Flack."

Danny undid his blue shirt and handed it to Aiden before turning and disappearing through the door they'd come in through. Aiden nodded and then turned back to the man in her arms. He was bare-chested and covered in blood, though his injuries didn't look to severe. His torture had clearly been about pain rather than damage. Torture to gain information, to keep a subject alive but willing. Aiden closed her eyes and tears welled up in them as she thought of Flack suffering for her. He always had, how well she knew that. Even back in the day, he'd always loved her from afar; it had been all too easy to see. But she had played him back then, enjoying the attention but never wanting a serious commitment. She had been so stupid and young and immature back then. Flack had been such a genuine, kind hearted soul and she had always assumed they'd end up together. But then she'd lost her job and that had been the start of the end. She'd betrayed him too many times to count now and he deserved so much better. He always had.

"Where am I?" Flack croaked, his voice breaking into the silence.

"Safe," she replied, stroking his hair.

Flack pushed himself back from her and leant against the wall behind him. Aiden held out Danny's shirt to him and he took it but didn't put it on.

"Are people after us?" Flack asked.

"Yes, but if everything goes to plan my colleagues will have them taken down tonight," she said, staring at him sorrowfully.

The moon was shining in through the grimy window, illuminating his face and torso and her eyes studied all the cuts and burns covering his pale skin.

"Shouldn't you be helping them?" Flack muttered as he moved slightly and then grimaced in pain.

"Yes," Aiden nodded and then sighed and crept forward. "But I left you once, Flack. I wasn't going to do that again."

Flack stared back for a moment and then looked away, unable to look at her, to accept her words. At that moment Danny returned to the room.

"Here," he said gruffly, throwing something at Aiden. She caught it in her hands and noticed it was a bottle of water.

"Found it in a broken machine two floors down. Gonna head up now, see if we can't make a move whilst it's still dark," he explained and then disappeared again.

"You told Danny?" Flack choked as he watched his friend leave.

"I had to. I needed help getting you out," Aiden replied as she undid the bottle and held it against his lips.

He hesitated for a millisecond and then drank deeply from the bottle, wetting his dry throat and the fire that ravaged within him.

"I fucking hurt everywhere," he moaned after he'd had his fill.

"I don't doubt that," she murmured and then she took off her own shirt, a dark vest underneath, ripping it to shreds as she doused some with the water and then moved even closer to Flack. Gently she reached out and began cleaning a cut on his chest.

"I can do it," he growled and flinched back.

"No you can't. You haven't even put on that shirt Danny gave you because you can't move your arm in that angle," she retorted and then dabbed the cut again.

Flack let out a hiss but didn't move away. He watched as she worked, cleaning up his cuts and slowly the pain started to fade. Her soft delicate touch graced over his skin and he shivered slightly, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. For the first time in hours he actually felt safe. He felt calm. And he felt rested. Aiden was there, she'd come for him and they were finally alone again. When he opened his eyes again they were teary, but whether from pain or emotion he was unsure.

"Why did you leave, Aiden?" he said slowly, voice barely above a whisper.

"Because I needed to catch these guys, Flack," she replied but continued to work.

Flack watched her again and knew the wound on him to which she was tending would be clean by now. She'd been dabbing over it for at least five minutes and for some reason she couldn't look at him, she couldn't face him. He didn't know why. All he knew was that he was still every bit in love with her as he always had been.

"You know I was in love with you?"

His words hung in the air.

"Yes."

And when she looked up she was crying.

Flack nodded, choking on his next words. She was so close, so beautiful. Those full lips of hers and big brown eyes glinting in the moonlight. She hadn't aged a day, still as beautiful as she always had been. And suddenly she was moving closer and her lips brushed his skin. She was gently kissing the cut on his shoulder and he shivered, the emotion of the situation almost becoming too much for him. She was moving further up now, closer, and his breath hitched as ever so slowly she gently brushed her lips against his.

"Aiden," he murmured quietly.

"Shhshh," she replied as she kissed him harder.

He whimpered under the pressure from her mouth over his and his lips slowly parted, letting her in, letting her possess him, control him, own him. Their tongues tangled in his mouth, fought for dominance and of course she won. She always could beat him at everything. But then again, he always let her. He could feel the blood surging around his body, tiny particles of life, isotopes of a chemical reaction that was in all essence Aiden. She was holding onto his hips, hands stroking over his skin. Flack unconsciously moved his own hands into her hair and entangled his fingers in the soft, silky strands. She pulled him closer, one hand moving up to hold the back of his head, trapping him between the hand and her lips; a prisoner to her will.

Flack could feel himself falling, drowning in everything that was Aiden; her smell, her taste, her touch... her very essence, her soul; the woman he had been madly in love with for what felt like eternity. So he let himself fall, let himself be completed by their unity, after all he had waited a lifetime for this.

"Guys, they're disappearing," Danny burst into the room. "Oh!"

Aiden pulled away and stood up immediately.

"Going?"

"They just suddenly disappeared," Danny replied.

"Then my colleagues have been successful. You guys need to get out of here," she stated.

"What?" Flack asked as he stumbled up, lips still red and swollen from the kiss, blood still staining his skin as he pulled on Danny's shirt and grimaced with the pain of the awkward movement.

"You need to leave. You can get back to your lives in safety and I need to go," Aiden explained.

"You're just gonna disappear on us again?" Flack said angrily.

Aiden stared worriedly at him, despite his frail appearance; covered in blood and wavering slightly he still emanated something of a threatening and feral vibe.

"Flack," she murmured and reached out to hold his cheek.

"No!" Flack said angrily, tears in his eyes as he stepped back.

He stared for one moment longer and then turned and left wordlessly, his heart breaking more than it ever had before.

"Danny," Aiden said as she turned to the other man.

"We changed Aiden," Danny murmured, his eyes staring after Flack. "Life moved on for us, I got married and had a daughter. And he..." Danny nodded his head to the doorway their friend had left through. "And he died a little bit every day you were gone."

"Danny, I..." Aiden began.

"Just don't," Danny shrugged, knowing how fucked up Flack would be from now on because of this, and how much he'd need looking after.

"I'm sorry," she murmured tears falling down her face,

"So am I," he sighed. "I love you, Aiden. You know I do. You were best friend for years. But we all moved on, I moved on and God knows Flack tried to."

"I realise that," she said softly.

"Then you know I gotta look after him now. Cos he's breaking inside and you caused that. I have to protect him, he has no-one else," Danny murmured.

"Danny..." Aiden pleaded.

"Once you go, Aiden, don't ever come back," Danny stated clearly. "Don't come back for him."

He turned before she could reply and left in search of his friend.

Aiden stared at the black opening of the doorway, through which her two best friends of old had just gone. Through which the one soul she loved more than anything else had just gone. And she was hit by pain, jolts of it wracking through her body and she collapsed to the grimy floor, sobbing into her hands.

"I'm so sorry..." she whispered out into the darkness. "I'm sorry for the pain I caused you all these years. If I could change that... If I could..."

* * *

A/N - Okay, so only one chapter left of this now. :(


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

It was Autumn. Of that much Flack was well aware as he plodded his way down Center Boulevard in Queens. The weather was still warm and the sun had reclaimed its rightful place in the sky after a couple of weeks of bitter rain. The leaves had started turning weeks ago and golds, oranges, yellows and browns floated down to the ground around him, catching the sunlight and making the world seem as if on fire. The air and ground were still somewhat damp and tiny droplets of water glittered as light fragmented its way through the clear liquid hanging from the trees and fencing. The air was fresh and Flack found himself caught on the waves of a warm zephyr as it took him and hurried him on his way back to the crimescene. He sighed wretchedly and tugged at his thick-knitted green and blue tartan scarf that he'd stupidly worn that morning. He'd assumed without any thought that the day would once again be a miserable one and that mist and rain would envelope the city with its ongoing presence. But the world had changed that very day. The mist had lifted, the rain had drifted on its way and now a clean and fresh city shone out around him.

"So no-one saw anything," Flack mumbled to Danny as the CSI bent over the body on the ground.

A body that might almost have been his own nine months ago. A poor soul had been out the night before and had been mugged of his wallet, watch, shoes, smart suit and coat. He lay almost naked on the very spot Flack had found himself lying in that night he'd been nearly mugged by two teens, and he had a sneaky suspicion as to who was responsible for this crime due to that. He no doubt pick them up later on if he did a drive round the area or could possibly ID them from some mugshots.

"It was foggy last night, it doesn't surprise me," Danny replied, not looking at Flack as he plucked a thread off the dead man's boxers using a pair of small tweezers.

"Warm, isn't it?" Flack coughed after a minute of silence.

Danny turned and stared up at him, eyes narrowing cautiously as he surveyed his nervy friend who was struggling to pull off his scarf. His face was a mixture of grim crossed with nothing. An unemotional blankness that had been ever present since the night Aiden had disappeared on them, for the second time. Flack's face was now even more lined with wrinkles of age and weariness. His eyes had faded from the once electric blue they had been so many years ago and now almost seemed grey. He'd once again let his unruly hair grow longer but didn't bother to glue it down with a whole tin of wax and gel each day. And this a man who had always been so careful about his appearance. It saddened Danny to see his dear friend fall even further into despondence.

"You okay?" Danny asked from his place on the ground.

Flack just looked at him coldly but didn't reply. Danny knew why that was, he'd been asking Flack if he was okay about ten million times every single day since that night he'd seen him kissing Aiden. He knew Flack was sick of it, that he wasn't 'fine' as he protested, but also that there was no way the man would open up either. Danny could see him falling, see him sinking into the pits of despair and felt powerless to stop it. He'd tried and tried again, he'd exhausted himself doing so but Flack was lost and it seemed nothing could now pull him back from the brink of self destruction. Danny now almost regretted telling Aiden to stay away, perhaps if he hadn't...

"God, I'm so hot!" Flack grouched as he almost ripped off his scarf with the anger of a great black bear and then tried to push it into a pocket of his jacket.

"Scarves are for wimps anyway," Danny smiled back, attempting to make light of the situation.

"Fuck off, Messer," Flack snapped and then turned on his heel and began pacing away.

"Hey...Flack?" Danny shouted after him, standing up and grimacing as his knees clicked from being knelt on the ground for too long. He was getting old.

Flack's retreating form didn't stop or turn around.

"Flack, what did I say?" Danny yelled. "Come back?!"

He sighed angrily as Flack paced away even faster.

"Fuck's sake," Danny growled and almost kicked out at a nearby tree, refraining from doing so only because he knew it might contaminate the crimescene.

Flack stomped off along the road back the way he had come. He passed the grubby little diner he and Aiden had had coffee in and kept on going. The smell of cheap coffee and cheap burgers invaded his nostrils and he shot a filthy look at the sticky establishment. He heard the leaves crunching underfoot, like the sound of death. The dead leaves fallen from the trees, their dried up and withered bodies lying like corpses on the ground to be crushed by his feet. It was as though their tiny dormant voices screamed with every step he took, as he crushed away their lives, and the noise of the bones disintegrating made him grimace with a wave of nausea. This was no longer purgatory, he'd lived through that, this was a void. Nothing. Emptiness. Where everything came to die. Where nothing survived. And this was where his soul had become stuck.

He missed her.

Flack choked on a gasp of air and realised he'd crossed over to the edge of the river. The sun was reflecting off it, rays dancing over the water's surface and twinkling up at him as if the river was filled with diamonds. Flack stared down at it, mesmerised by its beauty, if he could even call it that. He wasn't entirely sure he saw beauty in anything anymore. The water rippled gently and Flack noticed the small circles that formed where droplets of water and leaves fell down to the surface. It was hypnotic. The light bathed him in a kindly warmth and claimed him, body and soul. It beckoned to him and he felt himself falling, falling down into the light, into its beauty, into the colours... and then he stumbled and felt a painful pull on his shoulder as his hand was grabbed and he fell back. He hit the still damp ground hard and grunted loudly in pain.

"Fuck!" he swore as he sat up and shook his head.

"Fuck? Is that all you can say? What the hell were you thinking?"

"Danny!" Flack said warningly without even bothering to acknowledge the voice. He turned and choked on his next words.

"Not quite," Aiden stated as she returned his gaze.

Flack stared at her for a moment, unable to register any thoughts to voice or words to say. Then he frowned and picked himself up from the ground.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he growled as he brushed bits of crushed leaf from his clothes.

"Can't a girl take a walk in this beauty spot on a warm morning?" Aiden half smiled as she too stood.

Flack stared at her passively and she sighed.

"I've moved back to the city, permanently. So thought I'd take a walk down memory lane," she replied honestly.

"And what memories are there for you here?" Flack snorted derisively.

"You," she replied simply.

Flack stared at her again and though he felt anger bubbling up inside him, felt hurt and betrayal as painful as a knife in the gut he could feel his heart softening. He was pathetic when it came to her. To Aiden.

"There isn't exactly much of me left," Flack said quietly and he turned from her and looked back out across the river. The light danced in his eyes.

"Not if you go jumping into the East River," she said softly and Flack felt her right behind him.

"I didn't jump, I slipped," Flack muttered, though he knew it was unconvincing. Slipped, fell, jumped, thrown himself in...it all ended with the same outcome.

"No, because I was there to pull you back...to catch you," she murmured and Flack felt her arms snake around his waist and hold him tight.

He let her.

"I wouldn't have..." he began to say.

"Yes you would. I know you, Flack. I know what I did to you, how it made you feel..." Aiden drifted off and Flack heard her breathing become louder, become deeper.

"Why did you do it then?" he asked.

"To finish the assignment. We succeeded, Flack. Years and years of work, of living undercover as another identity... it was all worth it. The gang were taken down and we saved so many people."

Flack nodded in reply. He found himself unable to argue with her words. Her work had saved many lives and he was just one against the many. They'd all be dead if she'd stayed for him.

"I'm sorry, Don," she murmured against the back of his neck.

"I know you are," Flack replied.

"Do you?" she asked.

Flack stared out at the water and watched as it almost waved back at him, the ripples becoming slightly deeper and more prominent. The wind had picked up.

"Yes," he said after some time.

"I'm not perfect," she sighed. "I never was, despite what you'd convinced yourself."

"What?" Flack muttered and turned his head to the side to try to see her.

"That night... that night I took you and Danny to that God awful club... I wanted to kiss you," she whispered softly. "I'd been sneaking glances at you all night long and I saw you staring back at me... I so wanted to feel you against my body, to hold you close..."

Flack held his breath and froze as she paused momentarily.

"Those two men...the ones who stopped us... they were my brothers, Flack. Bernard and Fred. I didn't know they were back in the country. They'd been fighting in Iraq and had come home on leave. They'd come to see me, I was going to introduce you but you'd gone when I turned back around..."

"I didn't know," Flack choked.

"It was the last time I saw them too, before I disappeared. Bernie died in Iraq, blown to smithereens and Fred lost his left arm. I saw him yesterday for the first time in years."

Flack choked against his own tears as he felt something wet trickle down the back of his neck.

"It wasn't worth it," she whispered. "Saving lives, taking down the gang... to lose you, to lose Bernie and almost Fred too..."

"You haven't lost me," Flack replied. "I'm right here, aren't I?"

"But you so nearly weren't," she choked.

Flack could hear her sobbing quite clearly now and he turned decisively and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

"I love you, Aiden," he cried as tears fell from his eyes.

"I'm so, so sorry, Flack," she sobbed into his jacket.

"Shhshh," he soothed.

"I'll never leave again," she murmured.

"You're back for good?" Flack asked as he pulled away slightly so he could look into her tear-stained face.

"Yes," she nodded. "I realised there was something I'd left behind. Something that once belonged to me, but doesn't anymore. So I'm gonna work damn hard to get it back."

"I was always yours," Flack stated and then in one step he was next to her, leaning down and their lips met in a tentative kiss.

"I love you, Don," she murmured into the kiss and held him tight.

Flack hugged her close and they kissed again, the passion between them impossible to ignore now. He tasted her essence, and if a person could be lost to another's soul, then it was now. They both felt the electricity that ran between them, their souls melting and melding into one another's, unifying into a single entity as they become one.

Danny smiled to himself as he watched his two very best friends in the whole world finally kissing, finally together and seemingly happy. As they broke apart he crossed the road and grinned at them.

"Hey hey, what's going on here then?" he chortled merrily.

"Danny," Aiden smiled as she turned to face him, Flack never letting her go.

"Hey, Aiden, it's good to see you back," he nodded, apologising with his eyes for telling her to stay away.

"I knew you'd miss me," she grinned back, their obvious banter breaking in at once.

"Not half as much as he did," Danny nodded at Flack.

Aiden half turned and looked up at Flack before turning back to Danny. "That's because he loves me," she replied.

"And you?" Danny asked.

"I love him," Aiden replied happily as Flack hugged her tighter.

"Good," Danny nodded as though they needed his approval in their unity.

"Look at us," Aiden smiled. "The old gang back together."

"Yeah, super three," Danny chuckled as he went to stand next to them and the three of them looked out across the river at the city.

"Just like the good old days," Flack commented.

"You'll have to meet my wife someday," Danny told Aiden.

"I'd love to," Aiden replied.

The three of them stood there for a while, lost in the memories of their past and their friendship. They bantered and laughed together as though nothing had ever happened between them, easily falling back into their old ways. Flack watched as his two best friends chatted excitedly with one another. No. His best friend and his soulmate. The love of his life. It was as it should be and suddenly he felt the constriction and tightness in his chest leaving him. Air swarmed into his lungs and he could breathe. He felt lighter. He felt dizzy but not from nausea or some other malady, he felt drunk, high on life and he closed his eyes. The warm zephyr swam around him and he smiled happily. His soul was being raised from purgatory, it was dancing on the wind and he felt the light of paradise shine through. The light of heaven. He had been finally granted forgiveness.

"You with me, Don?" he heard Aiden ask.

Flack's eyes fluttered open and he looked down at her. Danny was no longer around.

"Always," he smiled.

He felt her soft hand take hold of his and they both smiled, the breeze ruffling their dark hair.

* * *

Flack sighed happily to himself as he walked into the bullpen. He'd just got back to the precinct from seeing Aiden at the crimescene and knew his Captain would more than likely be cross for him being gone so long but he didn't care. He had Aiden back and he wouldn't lose her again. He strolled casually over to his desk chair and collapsed into it. The bullpen was bustling with life as usual and Flack glanced around it, smiling at his colleagues as he did so. His eyes fell on Lovato's empty desk and he felt a hint of sorrow; she'd transferred out of the precinct some months ago and they were still waiting on a replacement. Flack knew it was because of him and he should feel ashamed of himself for the way he'd treated her, but they would never have worked and she had made his life a complete and utter hell for the last few months she'd been at the precinct. Bitter and resentful did not suit her well. Flack sighed and then smiled as he thought of Aiden. He couldn't wait for his shift to be over so he could see her again.

"Yo Flack!"

Flack glanced up to see Detective Marchini staring at him.

"Marcs?" Flack muttered questioningly as the large Italian stood next to his desk.

"You seen Lovato's replacement?" Marchini asked as he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Lovato's old desk.

Flack bent his head around the side of the large man and his eyes caught sight of the detective sitting down at the desk. His mouth dropped open... she was stunning. Long dark hair, deep brown eyes that sparkled with mystery and perfectly full lips. She looked up and caught his eye, smiling affectionately at him. Flack grinned happily back at her and then turned back to Marchini.

"Yeah, yeah I have," he nodded and then looked past him again back at Aiden. He didn't understand how she had come to replace Lovato, but he didn't care. All he knew was that he had her back, and what's more back on his team and that meant the world to him.

Their eyes met again across the bullpen and they both smiled, completely and utterly lost in one another as life continued on around them.

Just as it always should have been.

Just how it always would be.

* * *

A/N - So that is it. I may carry this universe on at some point with Aiden being alive and with Flack but not for now.

Stories and updates from me will now be mush more sparse I'm afraid as I've taken on a lot more hours at work recently and with two jobs and trying to finish my Masters thesis I have hardly any spare time. I will be updating my Flack and Oscar story every so often but won't be doing anything new for a while except challenges and possibly oneshots as they are easier. I also have my own challenge up 'A Room with Two Characters' if anyone wants to take part in that.


End file.
